Now, here we are.
We’re parked in front of the bus station in downtown Baltimore, the place bustling with activity even at sunset. I’m behind the wheel, Sarah in the passenger seat next to me. We fit right in, just two teenagers sitting in a crappy car, in the middle of saying good-bye.
‘I keep waiting for the part where you try talking me out of going,’ Sarah says, her smile a little sad. ‘You’ll say it’s too dangerous, we’ll argue, you’ll lose and I’ll end up going anyway.’
‘It is dangerous,’ I reply, turning so I can face Sarah. ‘And I don’t want you to go.’
‘That’s more like it.’
She takes my hand, lacing her fingers through mine. With my other hand, I run my fingers through her hair, eventually letting them rest gently on the back of her neck. I pull her in a little closer.
‘But it’s no more dangerous than staying here with me,’ I finish.
‘That’s the overprotective John I know and love,’ she replies.
‘I’m not –’ I start to protest, but cut myself off when I see her teasing smile.
‘These good-byes never get any easier, do they?’
I shake my head. ‘No. They really don’t.’
We fall silent, holding tight to each other, watching the minutes on the dashboard clock slowly blink away.
Back at the textile factory, we didn’t need to have a huge discussion about Sarah going to find Mark James. Everyone seemed to agree that it was the right thing to do. If Mark really had managed to acquire some crucial information on the Mogadorians, and if he was risking his life to help us, then we needed to return the favor. But the rest of the Garde was still missing. And Adam’s plan to strike the Mogadorian stronghold in D.C. seemed more and more like the smartest play, a necessary strike to gather intelligence and show those bastards that we were still in this fight. There’s too much happening for us to put all our resources into catching up with Mark.
Sarah made it easy by volunteering.
Of course, sending her off alone on a potentially dangerous mission involving an ex-boyfriend isn’t exactly my favorite idea. But I can’t shake the feeling that the grim future I saw in Ella’s dream is racing towards us. We need all the help we can get. If there’s even the tiniest possibility that sending Sarah to Alabama could help us win this war, it’s a chance we have to take, my own selfish feelings be damned.
And anyway, she won’t be totally alone on the trip.
In the backseat, Bernie Kosar stands with his paws braced against the closed window, tail wagging furiously as he watches all the people zipping in and out of the bus station. My old friend seemed pretty wiped out after the battle in Chicago, but some of his energy came back when we got on the road. Once, in Paradise, he’d been my protector. Now he will do the same for Sarah.
‘I don’t want you to think of me as your girlfriend right now,’ Sarah says out of the blue, totally composed.
I lean back a bit, squinting at her. ‘That’s going to be hard for me.’
‘I want you to think of me as a soldier,’ she persists. ‘A soldier in this war who’s doing what needs to be done. I don’t know exactly what I’ll find down south, but I have this weird feeling that I’ll be able to help you better from there. At the very least, when it comes to battles, I won’t be around to slow you down.’
‘You don’t slow me down,’ I insist, but Sarah waves this objection away.
‘It’s okay, John. I want to be with you. I want to see that you’re okay, I want to see you win. But not every soldier can be on the front lines, you know? Some do more good when they’re away from the action.’
‘Sarah …’
‘I’ve got my phone,’ she continues, motioning to the hastily packed backpack at her feet. Inside it she has a disposable cell phone that Malcolm bought, along with a few changes of clothes and a handgun. ‘I’ll check in every eight hours. But if I don’t, you have to keep going, keep fighting.’
I get what she’s trying to do. Sarah doesn’t want me rushing off to Alabama if she misses one of her check-in phone calls. She wants my head in the game. Maybe she can sense it, too – that we’re nearing the end of this fight, or at least crossing a point of no return.
Sarah looks into my eyes. ‘This is bigger than us, John.’
‘Bigger than us,’ I repeat, knowing it’s the truth yet wanting to fight against it. I don’t want to lose her, and I don’t want to say good-bye. But I have to.
I look down at our interlinked hands and remember how simple things were, at least for a little while, back when I first moved to Paradise.
‘You know, the first time my telekinesis started working was during that Thanksgiving at your house.’
‘You never told me that,’ Sarah replies, an eyebrow raised, not sure why I’m suddenly getting sentimental. ‘Did my mom’s cooking inspire you?’
I chuckle. ‘I don’t know. Maybe. That was the same night Henri had his run-in with the original They Walk Among Us crew, along with the Mogadorians who were using them. Afterward, he wanted to leave Paradise, and I refused. Actually, I didn’t just refuse, I used my telekinesis to pin him to the ceiling.’
‘Sounds like you,’ Sarah says, shaking her head and smiling. ‘Stubborn.’
‘I told him I couldn’t go back to living on the run. Not after Paradise. And you.’